Ramananda Sengupta
Sixty years. That’s how old someone born January 26, 1950, would be today.
An age to contemplate retirement. A time, as Pink Floyd so poignantly put it, to realise that every day, day after day, you get “shorter of breath, and one day closer to death.”
For a nation, however, 60 years is but barely three generations.
Even though freedom from the British had been won some three years ago before that (on August 15, 1947), it was on January 26, 1950 that our Constitution -- among the world’s largest -- came into force, turning us into a “Sovereign, Democratic Republic.”
Special: Republic Day
Someone born around that date has probably seen some incredible changes, as a newborn nation, scarred by a savage partition at birth, struggled to find its place on earth.
We’ve come a long way since. We’ve fought three major wars with Pakistan, and one with China. Floods, earthquakes, drought, riots, we’ve seen them all, and emerged stronger, though not always wiser.
When a rather myopic interpretation of socialism took us to brink of bankruptcy, we hesitantly embraced the open market in the early 1990s.
Today’s cell-phone toting, mall-trawling kids might find it hard to believe that barely two decades ago, it took months, sometimes years, to get a telephone or a gas connection, and our choice of automobiles was limited to the venerable Ambassador and some models of Premier Padmini.
Colour television first came to India in 1982, long after it was available in Vietnam and Bangladesh. But Doordarshan remained the only channel you had till the early 1990s, when newly licensed cable operators ushered in a profound revolution. A generation which grew up with the Ramayana and Mahabharat on television suddenly had CNN, and Baywatch.
By 1998, the year we went overtly nuclear, there were some 25 million cable television households across the nation. Today, a conservative estimate puts that number at 225 million, and growing.
Today, we can get phone and gas connections almost overnight. Today, every automobile major wants a slice of the Indian market. Today, Jaguar Land Rover, one of the world’s top marques, is owned by the Tatas.
Today, our economy is strong enough to bear the tremors of the recent recession, and still show growth.
Today, the Indian Air Force is testing six top-of-the-line fighter jets after issuing a tender for 126 aircraft, worth an estimated $ 12 billion --- one of the single largest fighter plane contracts in the history of aviation.
And to cap it all, we are a young nation not just politically, but also demographically. The median age of our billion plus population, Wikipedia tells us, is 25.1.
Today, we seem poised to take our seat at the world’s top table.
But before we start thumping our chests in delight and pride, consider this:
Today, the main challenges we faced as a nation 60 years ago –poverty, inequality, population – continue to haunt us. Add to that the venal politics of division and corruption, and you cannot help but wonder at the resilience and durability of our democratic system.
But if you dig a little deeper, you will probably discover that the four traditional pillars of a democracy: the Legislature, the executive, the judiciary and the media, are all showing signs of stress and strain. Of wear and tear.
Criminals adorn our Legislature.
Our chief executive, the President of India, is no longer above reproach.
The judiciary, despite being generally seen as fair if slow, has its share of bad eggs, and is suffering from a crippling system overload. Justice delayed is Justice denied.
The media is struggling to retain its independence as paid news -–and the constant need to generate headlines under impossible deadlines -- erode its fundamental role: credibility.
The officers of our mighty military, once considered the bastion of courage, integrity and uprightness, are no longer averse to some easy money, as the recent Sukna land scam incident shows.
(But then, what have we, as a nation, done for those who died in those wars with Pakistan, with China, and fall to terrorists today on our borders, day after day? As one of my heroes, General Ian Cardozo, once said: “I believe that a nation which does not honour its war dead dishonours itself." )
The cracks are growing.
The divisive politics of caste, creed and religion have opened other fault lines, which are also being exploited by our neighbours.
Both China and Pakistan are uncomfortable with India’s growing economic and military might. Apart from being nuclear weapon states, they also happen to be good friends.
Who’s sending terrorists into our land? Who’s arming the Naxals?
But far more importantly, what are we doing about it?
As another hero of mine, Arundhati Ghose (the diplomat who, in August 1996, bluntly told the Americans what they could do with their Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty) told me once:
“I don't think we yet understand power. Economically, today we have more power, relatively, compared to what we had 10 or 20 years ago. But we do not understand it. We do not how to use it, we don't know how to project it, we are uncomfortable with it. We are more comfortable with the powerless. If you have power, you have to be able to use it, to leverage it. (But) Be very clear about what it is you want.”
Instead of pondering what we really want, instead of rushing to plug these rapidly widening cracks that threaten to rip our nation apart, instead of exercising our power, what do most of us do?
We blame the system.
More articles by Ramananda Sengupta
“What can I do? It’s part of our system,” we moan helplessly.
As we enter our 61st year as a Republic, let us pledge not take the easy way out. Let us constantly remember that we are the system.
Because if we don’t, we might as well retire.
